


A Vow is Made

by BriEva



Series: Promises, Games and Wars [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Aegon VI Targaryen and Jon Snow are Siblings, Brotherly Love, F/M, Jon Connington (mentioned), Jon Snow Needs a Hug, Jon Snow is a Sand, Jon Snow is a Ward, Not Beta Read, Robert Baratheon/Lyanna Stark (One-Sided) - Freeform, Sorry for spelling or grammar errors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriEva/pseuds/BriEva
Summary: A hidden prince is given a glace at another life and a promise is made.
Relationships: Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Series: Promises, Games and Wars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700188
Comments: 16
Kudos: 42





	A Vow is Made

**Author's Note:**

> So I kinda had this in my cloud for a while, I have been wanting to work on a series of one-shots but couldn't get past the ending I had in mind for this chapter. I decided to cut that part that was giving me so much trouble and just post the darn thing.  
> I hope I feel inspired to continue on with this but if I don't this still has a good feeling for an ending.

_ I don’t know what he looks like _ , Aegon thought to his dismay as he watched the false Royals parading themselves proudly through the streets of Kings Landing. Hidden on the crowded shores, beneath a hood and blue hair, the heir to the Iron Throne watched as the Usurper and his pride of lions started their royal venture north. He could barely see their faces from the distance he was standing, he wished that he could move closer yet how dangerous such an action could be. Jon Connington took him to see his homeland the  _ Seven Kingdoms, _ every few years, he wanted Aegon to understand what he was fighting for, Jon Connington was the only father Aegon ever knew Usually, they would simply sail past Kings Landing and watch the Red Keep from far away at sea.

This was the first time since the rebellion that Aegon has set foot on the land that his ancestors once claimed. _ A kingdom that was rightfully mine, _ he silently snarled to himself. He was not supposed to have wandered off, but when Aegon heard the cheers and adulation in the distance, he could not help himself. He had to see it with his own eyes, he had to refuel himself with the desire to fight for what was so wrongfully taken from him.

Yet, for all the anger he could hold in his tiny, ten-year-old body, most of his rage was reserved for the fate that befell his mother, sister, and his father, Aegon was only interested in one other life at the moment. It was the one that he has always wanted to meet since the time he was old enough to understand anything.

His little brother.

The usurper, Robert Baratheon, rode at the head of the train and he was surrounded by gold cloaks, both on foot and on a horse. Had the sun been peeking through the clouds their armor would have glistened in the light. However, like the young crownless prince surrounded by small folk, the sun was hiding at the moment, making it easier to spot the differences between those that were yards away.

Behind the Usurper was an intricate carriage, it’s curtains slightly opened allowing others a view inside. Long golden hair, sitting tall and regal with a beautiful face. Cersei Lannister was sitting with her daughter in her arms, across from her was a blond-headed boy. He wore over-exaggerated clothes of gold and red, his position was clear for all to see.  _ A fake prince if I ever saw one _ , the young dragon narrowed his eyes with a punch of jealousy.

_ Thieves and murderers, the lot of you, stealing my home, my birthright, and killing my family! _

With that thought, Aegon suddenly remembered why he wanted to be here in the first place, why he took the chance to get so close.

_ But where is he?  _ He was slightly worried now, he searched the front of the train again, perhaps his baby brother was walking? But he saw no small bodies amongst the soldiers. Then his gaze moved towards the end of the golden Lannister party, and there was another carriage. Though this carriage could hardly be called one: it was a cart since it didn’t have a roof, the design wasn’t nearly as extravagant as the Lannister party. Simple, thin, wooden bars made up the body of the cart, giving it the illusion of a cage. And there, as if on display, his little brother was dutifully sitting. Aegon held his breath as he saw his flesh and blood for the first time, his only brother.

He knew that the boy was no older than eight, he was nearly two years younger than Aegon himself, he was dressed in black mourning garb, and his face was half-hidden by his dark unruly hair. From this distance though, it was difficult to see if they shared the classical Valyrian purple eyes. Though Aegon’s were hidden behind his blue hair. Truthfully, it was hard to believe that they shared a father, their resemblance was not very strong. It was the same between him and his sister, Aegon had heard it said before. She took after their Dornish mother and had little of their father in her. 

“Ah, it’s the Bastard Prince,” a voice whispered beside him, a voice filled with sorrow.

He glanced in the direction where he heard the voice, the owner of the voice belonged to an elderly woman, she was older than Connington. Lowborn from her accent, Flea Bottom, that was the place. Connington had introduced Aegon to someone else who also had a similar accent. Though the name of the man escaped him at the moment, Aegon knew that he could remember the name if he gave it some more thought. But he didn’t want to at this moment, not when he was about to talk about Jon.

“The Bastard Prince? Why do you call him that?” Aegon asked, making the woman look towards him in surprise.

“You haven’t heard of him?” She questioned.

“My father and I are from Essos, we’re here to bring shipments of fabrics and goods from across the Narrow Sea.” Aegon, easily told the lie, he would tell a dozen more if only to learn more about his little brother.

“Ah, foreigners. Well, I’ll tell you about the Bastard Prince.” The woman began her tale. “That poor boy, he’s the nicest child the seven Kingdoms have ever seen. The Bastard Son of the Last Dragon and the She-Wolf, who tore this country apart. Named for the King's Hand. Kept as a ward to keep the Northerners in line. He is all that is left of the Targaryens in Westeros, yet the boy is all wolf. You can see it in his eyes. He has the honor of his Uncle within him, but he also has the blood of the last dragon. He has no claim to the Iron Throne, yet the small folk loves him for his kindness even as they look at him in fear. What if he becomes mad like his Mad grandfather?”

Aegon had to keep his calm, he could not react to gossip from the past, he knew all of the tales already. His grandfather, The Mad King, was indeed a stain that will never be removed from the Targaryen Family history. But his brother…

“Kindness?”

The woman nodded, “The boy is too kind for his own good. He endangers himself to help others even if it would mean he is to be punished harshly afterward. One time there was a runaway horse near the Red Keep, trampling over innocents: men and women alike. Young Jon there saw the horse heading towards a toddler who had fallen into the street, and he raced to save them. The horse kicked the poor lad but he healed fine. The girl survived and since then the small folk began to notice the small acts of kindness he does in this rotten city.”

The hidden prince’s heart tightened with pain, his little brother, how he wished he could truly meet him and know him. “He sounds very sad.”

There was a pain in the woman’s eyes and pity. “Aye my boy, that he does. His Grace, won’t even allow the boy to dress in anything other than mourning garb, a way to honor his mother. He can never be allowed to forget the deaths and destruction his family has caused, even against one another. Yet despite that, the boy still finds it in his heart to never be cruel, even as the King hunts for the last of his kin, he suffers for the small folk.” 

That was the one thing Aegon couldn’t understand. “Why did Robert Baratheon let the boy live?” If the Usurper hated Aegon’s family so much that he was hunting Aegon, his uncle and his aunt, then why would he allow the bastard of his beloved exist?

“Ah, that young boy’s whole life is a sad story. The King and Lord Stark rode south you see, in search of his beloved. Only to find her at death's door. It was said that even though she lay dying she fought and begged for the life of her son. I hear the king has scars on his face from when the She-Wolf attacked him when he demanded the babe’s death. Only she was able to break the great stag’s heart, and it was for the son of the Last Dragon.” The woman then turned and together they watched the carriage grow closer and closer. 

“Ned Stark demanded the boy be given to him, or so the guards say. ‘He has my family’s blood in his veins. He is a Stark, maybe not by name but by blood.’ Yet King Robert refused. Saying the boy should have been his and he will stay with him as did Lady Lyanna’s bones. He sent Lord Stark North, without his sister's remains and child, promising Ned Stark that he would one day have his nephew back. Robert then had a funeral for Lady Lyanna. He had her body embalmed in the name of the Seven though she kept to the Old Gods. I heard a rumor that the King has a room in the Maiden’s Vault - where she rests, he sometimes takes his mistresses there and loves them as if they were Lady Lyanna herself.” Her eyes widen in shock for a moment, “Forgive me child, one as young as you should not have heard that nasty rumor. I fear I was too engaged in the tales of the Bastard Prince.” 

Disgusted, the hidden Prince, couldn’t help but pity the Starks. In the Red Keep, a Stark was burned alive while the other was strangled to death. Another died of a broken heart and her body has been kept and preserved for some twisted form of pleasure. While the new Lord Stark has been forced to stay in his own lands as his nephew, the Prince’s bastard brother was being kept as a pet. The Starks had betrayed the Targaryen’s, but their house had more reason to rebel than the rest.  _ Now they have a reason to betray the Baratheons, _ the Prince noted astutely for his own plans in the making. With a satisfied nod Aegon returned his attention to his brother, he could see Jon clearer now, he was so close… _ his eyes are dark, his skin is lighter than my own… _ ”He’s a hostage.”

“He’s award,” the stranger corrected. 

“It’s the same thing, just a prettier word for an uglier truth.” Countered the hidden Prince.

She gave him a sad smile. “True, true.”

With her last words spoken the woman left him alone, he was surrounded by his people yet no one spared their rightful Prince a glance or a second thought. Their eyes were upon his brother, a caged wolf on display. A bastard, with nothing to inherit, yet he is more beloved than he knows. The way the woman spoke of him, the smallfolk don’t hate Jon, they pity him and are concerned for him because he thinks about them. Had he been trueborn, Aegon had no doubt in his mind that he would have been killed at birth, even with his mother begging and fighting for him to live. But if he had been a trueborn prince, Jon would have been a beloved gift, he could have helped Aegon to remove the worst of their grandfather's stain from history.

_ He may not have my name, but he has my blood _ , no truer words have ever been spoken.

“Someday,” the young dragon quietly vowed. 

_ I will get you out of this hell little brother. _

_ I promise. _


End file.
